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Silence revisited

. Sunday, July 31, 2011

Exactly one year since college ended and the journey on this silent road started. It was never easy since the kind of life I was living was way too far from silence. It had the shine of life and the grace of hearts. It had people; though it never had reasons, but it had the spark of fun. May be it had that carelessness. May be it had a noise, grumpy undulated but who ever liked a plain ground.

Mondays were never cursed nor did we ever wait for Saturdays and Sundays. Weekdays were weekdays; simple days of week with no special treatment. They were just days. Alcohol flowed in whenever it felt like. Cigarettes lighted up whenever they felt like. Movies rolled in whenever it felt like. Life had less boundaries and more freedom. The works had more consent and less constraints. Time did not matter much nor did the A.M and P.M those were never investigated. Hunger were neither estimated in terms of time it generally showed up, nor in terms of quantification of efforts to curb it down. Things just happened. No one complained. They were happy. Luxuries were minimum but who the hell cared. Till the time Floyd and Linkin park played itself and alcohol and cigarettes never exhausted it was all good and fun.

And now, we curse Mondays, wait for 4 days just to see Friday rolling in. There are better luxuries less freedom more constraint and less grace and more rules.

May be it has just this snoring silence which has a irritating as well as an acquainting behavior. May be I stopped complaining. May be I forgot noise. May be this is the way I am. May be this is the way all just turn at some point of time.

Slumdog Millionaires

. Thursday, July 28, 2011

Beggars

Mumbai has been home to several abandoned human being. Abandonment is in respect to money, shelter, caste and food. Clearly these substance has been the foremost entities that India looks on to. We have grown but our predominant thought process is yet to. Still exists rural areas where classism is still practiced in a scale out grown. Aamir, a shy and scared child who he recollects he was. Aamir was initially grateful when a ‘kind’ older couple befriended him on his arrival in Mumbai. This chaotic urban sprawl is now India’s largest city and home to more than 20 million people.

Overcrowding is now so bad in this huge metropolis that shanty towns have even sprung up in the international airport. People in rags scavenge as giant jets thunder past just feet away. But for many on the Indian sub-continent, Mumbai will always be the city of dreams — a place of Bollywood film stars and gold-paved streets. It was certainly the image that brought Aamir here.

Fleeing a violent, drunken father in rural India — his mother had died years before — the12-year-old had sneaked on to a train bound for the city. And when he got there, he hoped to make his fortune. It was not to be. Alighting at Victoria Station, the city’s main terminal and an architectural monument to the days of the British Raj, Aamir was penniless and bewildered. He started begging for food. Within minutes, a couple emerged from the crowd and approached him. They gave him cakes and said they’d take him away to start a better life. He always craved for a better life.

But Aamir’s food was drugged and when he became drowsy, the couple put him in a rickshaw and took him to the city’s municipal hospital, which is where the real nightmare began. For at the hospital, a doctor was paid to amputate one of his healthy legs. He was in great pain, but no one ever cared.

His limb had been severed mid-calf, leaving him without a foot. Now in hiding after being rescued from the hospital by a charity, Aamir is one of hundreds of Indian children deliberately crippled by gangs so they can earn extra money begging. He still struggles to talk about his experience.

According to a recent survey by Delhi School of Social Work there has been a phenomenal increase in the numbers of beggars in India. In a decade since 1991 their number has gone up by a lakh.There are some 60,000 beggars in Delhi, over 3, 00,000 in Mumbai according to a 2004 Action Aid report; nearly 75000 in Kolkata says the Beggar Research Institute; 56000 in Bangalore according to police records. In Hyderabad one in every 354 people is engaged in begging according to Council of Human Welfare in 2005. The numbers a little historic but not less to get itself unnoticed stature.

Mumbai is home to majority of beggars. According to the Maharashtra Government they are worth Rs. 180 crore a year with daily income ranging between Rs 20-80.Almost every survey profiles beggars as a largely contented lot unwilling to take up honest labour. Nearly 26% in the DSSW survey claimed they were happy.81% claimed that they do not face any problem during begging and only 15% mentioned humiliation from public and police. A survey done in 2004 by the Social Development Centre of Mumbai revealed similar attitude. The majority of beggars see it as a profitable and viable profession.

The biggest problem lies in the changing attitude towards beggars. Traditionally, begging has been an accepted way of life in India. Giving alms to the needy was built into the social fabric. That changed with the colonial rule. To the Victorians beggary embodied laziness and moral degeneration. Colonial laws held a beggar punishable for his condition. The newly independent nation imbibed this attitude towards poverty. In the new millennium the Government doesn't want them lying around middle class regards them as a nuisance.

If there are problems, certainly the laws exist to promote/prevent it. India's beggary laws are a throwback to the centuries old European vagrancy laws which instead of addressing the socio-economic issues make the poor criminally responsible for their position. The definition of beggar in law states as anyone who appears poor. The anti-beggar legislation is aimed at removing the poor from the face of the city. The beggars who have spent years on the street find it very difficult to live in confined space. There are provisions for vocational training in the government run beggar homes. But these are worse than the third rate jails where convicts can spend up to 10 years.

India as a nation needs to think for its begging population. With the nation aspiring to achieve world standards in every field socio-economic measures are needed to curb the begging problem in India. The solution calls for a comprehensive programme and reorientation of the existing programmes. Philanthropic approach to beggar problem should be replaced by therapeutic and rehabilitative work.

But may be it has always been ignorant. We keep talking about developing infrastructure, but often tend to under state the severity of these slumdog millionaires who directly or indirectly are meddling to country’s grace and economy. Sure growth is still lot to be understood.

You're consenting to being raped for money

.

I have been reading some articles or rather excerpts or may be some interview of these so called ‘sex workers’ may be a bunch of folks who consent for being raped. When I say it a bunch, the bunch is a little larger. May be its my interpretation of their experiences.

A flat in a block in a suburb of London: Karen (not her real name) thinks her neighbors probably realise she sells sex for a living. Of all the myths and stereotypes surrounding prostitution, the reality is more likely to be found in banal places like this. It is as far away from a cliched sleazy Soho walk-up as it is from a room in a luxury hotel. The bed is made, the bathroom clean. There is a pair of black plastic strappy shoes with a transparent high heel on one side of her computer desk; tucked down the other side is a pair of fluffy, white slippers.

For majority of these, They have to learn to disassociate their body from their mind which is dangerous for one’s psyche. For the vast majority of prostitutes, it isn't glamorous - it is damaging and dangerous - yet it seems to be promoted as some kind of career option. It is hard to understand why a woman who isn't a drug addict would become a prostitute, but then there are a huge number of reasons why someone finds themselves in this situation, Karen was the victim of a horrific attack and sexual assault, which left her with an anxiety about men. She thinks she has tried to counteract it by putting herself in what she sees as a position of power over them. "I'm the one in control, they're paying me. I'm not stupid - [the assault] probably does have something to do with proving to myself that I can be the one in control, that I can have something at the end of it. I can say when he walks out the door."

She came to prostitution late - she is in her early 50s but looks much younger - after leaving her full-time job six years ago after being bullied. It left her depressed and unconfident. She has a history of alcohol abuse and also had her, which left her unable to get another full-time job. "Just driving to work and back every day would exhaust me," she says. "I have to factor in a lot of rest in my life. I know my limitations and I keep within them as much as possible."

A few years earlier, Karen had left an unhappy marriage and began using internet chat rooms to meet men. "I started going on blind dates and it slowly started to evolve into having sex with strangers," she says. It wasn't such a huge leap, she says, into charging for what she was giving anyway. "I had a bad month, financially, as I invariably would, and it started as a trickle. I had always been curious about doing it - I think I was trying to prove to myself that actually prostitution was OK. But now I realise that it isn't." She put an ad offering massage in a newsagent's window and found that sex work would fit in around the hours of rest she needed to control her chronic fatigue. "To keep myself going and pay my bills and save for my pension, I probably need to see five a week," she says. "I can almost control my workload. The most I've ever seen in one day was three. I don't have a stream of men coming."

For a while, She also worked for an escort agency in London. "You got the best-paid jobs through the agency in London, but the woman who ran it would take 30%," she says. "One guy one night wanted me at 11 o'clock and I left at two in the morning. He ended up giving me £1,500. But these are the exceptions. Another guy paid me an extra £700 for unprotected sex - I walked out of there with £1,200. It was a godsend because I wasn't working much at the time." She never agrees to unprotected sex now. "I don't provide anything that's unsafe and it is probably pretty basic compared to some women out there. The more desperate you are, the more you're going to put yourself in danger."

She left the agency because she was angry at how much money the proprietor took. She tried working in flats used as brothels, but these jobs never lasted long. "One Christmas I was getting really desperate so I asked for work at a flat. It was dirty, they took out money for maid service, commission and cleaning, so I only got about half the money I earned. I'd rather work away from home, but you don't get the money and you're in somebody else's control. If I really can't face it I just won't answer the door. I'm lucky I can control that."

An estimated two thirds of prostitutes have experienced violence from clients. Has she? "Nearly. When I first started, I got trapped on a building site with a client. He locked me in a Portakabin with him. He made it clear that all the security guards had gone home because it was a Sunday evening. I hadn't realized that he was very drunk. He started talking about wanting a threesome and I said I'd ring my friend and ask her to come over. I rang this made-up number on my phone and pretended to speak to her, then I told him I had to go out and meet her. He let me out." Once she was out of sight, she ran and ended up having to climb over two 8ft fences. "Another time, I had one guy who kept insisting that I have anal sex but I wouldn't. He became extremely violent - he kept grabbing my hair and pulling it back. And you have to act like you're enjoying it. How that cannot damage somebody is ... you don't know what they're going to do if you say stop."

Then there are the scammers and time wasters, the ones who ring her up and ask what she is wearing so they don't have to ring a premium-rate phone line. "I had one man who came round and said he would only pay if he could see what he was getting. I undressed in front of him and he said, 'You've got a great body for your age, but I could go into London and pay the same money for a girl that looked like a model and was 25.' I said, 'Fine, off you go then.' I made him leave but it was so demeaning.

"You're going to get creepy men. That's a fact. I've had clients who have made my life hell. One guy came in and foolishly I didn't ask him for the money first." Afterwards, he claimed to have forgotten his wallet and Karen kept phoning him about the money. He turned nasty and threatened to burn her house down, then he started harassing her and would come by at two in the morning or would ring from different numbers pretending to be someone else. "You have to be careful not to piss someone off," she says. "Most of the time I would say the men I meet, when I have sex with them I feel neutral about them. I don't fancy them but they don't repulse me either - they're just middle of the road. Some men have actually turned my stomach - I could hardly bear for them to touch me and those are, generally, the ones who find it hard to find someone who will see them again, so they start to pester you."

What sort of men visit her? A lot are older, "Either whose wives have gone off having sex with them or they want to prove to themselves that they can still turn a woman on. They seem to block out the fact that having to pay a woman to do this kind of cancels that out. Some men are quite upset that you don't enjoy it, but those are the few. Some people say that prostitution is actually a man paying to rape a woman." Does she believe that? "I think that is true in a lot of cases. Although it is a business arrangement, he is getting off on the fact that the woman doesn't want it. Basically you've consented to being raped for money."

Even in the past couple of years, Karen says she has noticed changes in the men who come to see her and what they expect. "I've noticed that the paedophile scenario has started creeping in. Recently, I had a man who said, 'I'd like to try a 14-year-old. Can you find me one?' I've been asked to include another woman - that's quite a new thing. Two years ago, I remember men who would be upset at the idea that a prostitute they were using had been trafficked. Now I don't think it bothers them. The desensitisation process doubles up on itself every year. They want to tally up what's going on in their heads with your body. Sometimes they're not even looking at you." How does that make her feel? "Sometimes I think, it's just a performance. But it's not, it's more than that and it's very harmful."

How does she think it has harmed her? "That word disassociation comes back. I know the difference between sex for money and sex with someone you love, but if I was younger it might have damaged me more. You become hyper-vigilant. You worry about who is going to walk through the door or if the client is going to turn nasty. There is the constant worry about money."

Karen would like to be able to stop working, but doesn't know what else to do (she is waiting to hear whether or not she will be able to claim disability benefit). Would she ever be able to have a "normal" relationship with a man? "Even if I found a man I could tell what I've done, at the back of his mind he will not trust me. It puts you in quite literally a no-man's land. I will never trust a man again. In fact, I'm almost glad that I have done this because I know what men get up to. Their wives don't know. The likelihood, if you've got a boyfriend or husband, of him cheating on you is probably quite high." When I tell her I don't really believe this, she looks at me as though I'm stupid.

She calls herself as a feminist, but how does she square that with being a part of the sex industry, perpetuating it? "When I first started, I thought I was getting my own back. Men were meeting me and expecting sex for nothing so I thought, why not make them pay? It does bother me that I am perpetuating it but I don't know what else to do. I try whenever possible to counteract that with clients, in subtle ways. For instance, when a man asks me to be with another girl I say, 'Well, would you go with another man?' I try to make them stop and think."

She describes what she calls the "surround sound" of pornography - on television, in advertising, on the internet, in pop videos. "Younger women are being coerced into valuing themselves by what they look like and men's definition of how a woman should be valued. It's like being at the top of a hill and looking down and I can see all the little cultural landmarks, like the launch of Playboy, the internet, music videos celebrating a 'pimp and ho' culture, lads' magazines, burlesque. Women are being told that their bodies should be accessible at all times to men. I believe there is a conspiracy to turn women into readily accessible semen receptacles. Men are twisting this now to make women think it's a level playing field and it's equal and liberating. No, it suits men, it's convenient for men. That's what is so insidious".

Reference of this article is from some post on guardian.uk

Some More Lines

. Tuesday, July 26, 2011

After the lines from gulal, recently some more lines caught my glimpses. It was again a movie and these lines give more than insights. These lines gives a feeling. Finally captured the lyrics of line and posting it here.

जब - जब  दर्द  का  बादल  छाया
जब  ग़म  का  साया  लहराया 
जब  आंसू  पलकों  तक  आया 
जब  यह  तनहा  दिल  घबराया 
हमने  दिल  को  यह  समझाया 
दिल  आखिर  तू  क्यूँ  रोता  है

दुनिया  में  यूँही  होता  है 
यह  जो  गहरे  सन्नाटे  हैं
थोडा  ग़म  है  सबका  किस्सा 
थोड़ी  धुप  है  सबका  हिस्सा 
आँख  तेरी  बेकार  ही  नाम  है 
हर  पल  एक  नया  मौसम  है 
क्यूँ  तू  ऐसे  पल  खोता  है 
दिल  आखिर  तू  क्यूँ  रोता  है

पिघले  नीलम  सा

पिघले  नीलम  सा  बहता  ये  समां 
नीली  नीली  सी  खामोशियाँ 
ना कहीं  है  ज़मीन  ना  कहीं  आसमान
कह  रही  हैं  बस  एक  तुम  हो  यहाँ 
बस  मैं  हूँ , मेरी  साँसे  हैं  और  मेरी  धड़कने 
ऐसी  गहराइयाँ , ऐसी  तन्हैयाँ , और  मैं … सिर्फ  मैं 
अपने  होने  पर  मुझको  यकीन  आ  गया

जिंदा  हो  तुम

दिलों  में  तुम  अपनी  बेताबियाँ  लेके  चल  रहे  हो , तोह  जिंदा  हो  तुम 
नज़र  में  ख्वाबो  की  बिजलियाँ  लेके  चल  रहे  हो , तोह  जिंदा  हो  तुम

हवा  के  झोकों  के  जैसे  आज़ाद  रहना  सीखो 
तुम  एक  दरिया  के  जैसे  लहरों  में  बहना  सीखो 
हर  एक  लम्हे  से  तुम  मिलो  खोले  अपनी  बाहें 
हर  एक  पल  एक  नया  समा  देखिये

जो  अपनी  आँखों  में  हिरनिया  लेके  चल  रहे  हो , तोह  जिंदा  हो  तुम 
दिलों  में  तुम  अपनी  बेताबियाँ  लेके  चल  रहे  हो , तोह  जिंदा  हो  तुम

Entropy of Social Network

. Thursday, July 21, 2011

Yes, we have a new social network and I am a proud profile carrying member of the new elite created by an artificial scarcity of invites. A technique now pretty much a requirement for launching anything new that's social with 2 benefits, the obvious buzz factor and the ability to iterate and learn before you expand.
But this post is about history of civilizations on the internet.  While Google Plus is launched, MySpace was sold in last few days for a puny $30M and Friendster for $100M. Not to mention the once acclaimed AOL that was spun out of Time Warner in last few years. A $100B+ write down?
So why do social networks keep dying?


I think the answer lies in history of cities, and entropy of private information. Allow me to explain:
1. History of Cities: Social networks are like cities. They are born when small villages (Facebook at Harvard) expand due to a whole host of factors ranging from better cleaner layout, availability of resources (upload your pictures), ability to mingle with new kinds of people (dating & business relationships), etc. While all this is somewhat obvious - these social network cities need to be viral to expand.
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Shake that Belly Delhi

. Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Dear Aamir Khan,

I am sorry I took time to write to you on this. I am part of the educated, urban, movie-going Indian mass that regard your name as a familiar and inviolable mark of quality in current Hindi cinema. I never followed your ventures until  ‘Taare Zameen Par’ established your originative and intellectual certificates beyond doubt. Oh i missed something here, 'Sarfarosh’ did introduce me to your qualitative mark. I have been looking forward to each of your ventures since. ‘Peepli Live’ despite being short and de-glamorized was intelligent, crisp and efficient take on a sensitive cum serious subject area.

So the moment I heard about your foray into the ‘x– rated’, ‘ashleel’ and ‘abuse’  genre, I was fascinated and enthusiastic just like any young college going kid who generally thinks that widely used public abuse is something you can relate yourself to. I eagerly rushed to see Delhi Belly with sky-high expectations, but what I saw seriously let me down.  DB merely looks like an amateurish attempt to do what Guy Ritchie has done with such finesse in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch or even,  closer desi flick back at home, what Sanjay Khanduri has accomplished with 1:40 Ki Last Local.

I do not intend to say that the movie is boring or tacky. I cannot even dare to say that since your enterprise did earn money. What it lacks is character which can lead people to imagine about better thing is supposed to be very important part of a movie. The boldness or the ‘x-factor’ which many of you may quote in the movie is very trivial, ordinary and superficial; it tries so hard to shock and awe the viewer. And while the humor is not bad for the most part, was there a need for over-explicit an detailed toilet level humor which are elongated until the viewer is sickened, disgusted and frustrated? I pitied the poor souls who’d brought those cheese popcorn and extravaganza nachos combos into the screens – I wonder how many of them were put off popcorn/burgers for the rest of their lives! The scenes towards the end involving the villainous leader and Russian trades of diamonds are half-hearted and artificial attempts to make the movie look like ‘authentic’ black comedy.

The funniest line that stayed with me was the ‘clothesline vs. clothing line’ dialogue – it was a humorous ‘light bulb’ moment!You could have done a better job by simply adding more of these.

The performances and dialogue were good, but what I think is called characterization was rather built on weak grounds – Arup seemed as artificial and exaggerated just like the cartoons he draws, while Tashi’s character seemed to evolved out of more vague and flimsy motivations.

The music is the good thing and it is used very well. To be honest it is in fact one of the saving lines of the movie, along with the slapstick sequences such as those involving the ‘DK Bose’ song. DK Bose already became the voice of youth paired with all tunes doing a nice and musical job. The ‘saigal blues’ though did not become popular till the extent that it can beat ‘Aandhi’ in rising up the chart but definitely it seemed a work of creativity involving deep talent and strong music sense.

By the end the question I asked myself as I left the hall was this: Why must Indian audiences continue to be served a constant dose of slapstick accompanied by an greasy side-dish of toilet humor? Don’t we deserve better?

And finally my last words to you. I can understand. ‘Shit Happens’ at times. But seriously we expect from you more.

Regards,

A (Audience)images

Sarfaroshi ki Tamanna

.

There was a movie an year an a half ago, Don't know how many of you have actually watched it. It was named ‘Gulaal’. Being personally a great fan of Anurag Kashyap’s showpieces not just for the matter of fact that it has K.K menon’s acting but just for the simple reason that his movies at times takes us back to our own trait which has some percentage of resemblance, sorry strong percentage of resemblance in terms of character, psyche, instance and Psychology, I could not resist the temptation to watch it. His movies touch bases with reality every alternate scenes.

The delicacy of sarcasm has been kept brisk and effective by using rousing anthem of India’s revolutionary freedom movement –  ”Sarfaroshi ki Tamanna” – in Anurag Kashyap’s ‘Gulaal’. I have been revisiting this song for sometime and was looking for the lyrics.

I have now got the lyrics of the reinvented version by Piyush Mishra (sent me by a friend who’s also a shayar – Gulaal being so much a writer’s movie is bound to appeal to poets). I’m doing my bit and passing on the favour to like-minded enthusiasts:

सरफरोशी  की  तमन्ना  अब  हमारे  दिल  में  है 
देखना  है  जोर  कितना  बाजू -ए -कातिल  में  है 
वक़्त  आने  पे  बतादेंगे  तुझे  ए  आसमान 
हम  अभी  से  क्या  बताएं  क्या  हमारे  दिल  में  है

ओह  रे  बिस्मिल  काश  आते  आज  तुम  हिन्दुस्तान 
देखते  की  मुल्क  सारा  क्या  टशन , क्या  थ्रिल  में  है 
आज  का  लौंडा  यह  कहता  हम  तो  बिस्मिल  थक  गए 
अपनी  आज़ादी  तो  भईया लौंडिया  के  तिल  में  है .

आज  के  जलसों  में  बिस्मिल  एक  गुणगा  गा  रहा .
और  बहरों  का  वो  रेला  नाचता  महफ़िल  में  है 
हाथ  की  कड़ी  बनाने  का  ज़माना  लग  गया 
आज  तो  चड्डी  भी  सिलती  ईंग्लिशों  की  मिल  में  है

सरफरोशी  की  तमन्ना  अब  हमारे  दिल  में  है …
….क्या  बताएं  क्या  हमारे  दिल  में  है

I have a dream.

. Tuesday, July 19, 2011

No you should not hit that button. I know you have a job to do. I know you have a family to take care. I know its the only thing you could do. But hitting this button is too early. Its hardly a couple of seconds. This moment is so mesmerizing. The radiance has just begun to brim out. I am naked. Let this body feel the warmth of radiance, it so much needs it. I so much want to sleep with open arms. Its just awesome. The white clouds seems so peaceful. It makes me forget the desire of temptations. The adorning blues skies seems so felicitous. They have a story to tell. They have a song to sing; and importantly i am so desirous of letting those chords stuck my heart.

I can feel no pain, no jealousy, no hatred. Everything is so serene and optimistic. Oh please don’t hit that button, please. If you want I can pay you for no service. After so many days I am wearing a smile. I am feeling my smile. See its raining, I want to dance in this rain. I want to smell the rain. Oh please do not do it. The earth is damp now, cracks have mellowed down, dissolved and its all one land. I want to do a somersault on this earth. May be run around like a mirthful kid, without hesitations and guilt. I want to taste this earth again. I want to rattle myself. Oh please don’t hit that button. Its too early. Its just been a couple of seconds. My heart is dying to dissolve this serenity within itself.

Don’t hit that button. If you wish I can skip this breakfast, if you wish I can cook breakfast for you, but please for God’s sake don’t hit that button. I know i am being irrational, may be demanding. After all I am Human.

This is so perfect a dream. May this be my eternal sleep. If it is so may I never come to life again, because this is the life I always dreamt of. If death is only way to live it, may death have me. This is so perfect a dream.

Passion Vs Reality

. Monday, July 18, 2011

I heard Passion is a tough nut to crack. Reality is easy. But may be passion is easy but reality is difficult. I have been pursuing my preparation for admission to a B School. Facebook doesn't knows it but twitter knows it well and when i say i am trying i know i have this passion for continuing my studies. It took me time to unearth that passion, because as said Passion lies underneath a pile of crap; and one needs to undust it before you start using it. The wish is keen, sharp and willing to work late night.

But then, the morning comes in and there is a job to do. There is a place to go to work. There is this reluctance which creeps in after 9 hours of work. There is this boredom and wish to go to sleep.(may be that is understated) But there are reason which may get you off your road.

But there is this fight that i have been part of with myself where i try to chord a balance between the passion and reality. At times passion wins while at times the reality shows up.  Both are equally good friends of mine and leaving anyone in abandonment is definitely not called. What is still to see is what part of balance works in my favor of which i am a part of.

Signing off and goodnight blogger…..

The Desert Rose

. Friday, July 15, 2011

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

I dream of fire
Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in the flames5149desert_rose
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire

This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this

And as she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realize that nothing's as it seems

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes
This rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of her love

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
Sweet desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise

This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
Sweet desert rose
This memory of Eden haunts us all
This desert flower
This rare perfume, is the sweet intoxication of the love

Source : – Sting Desert Rose.(The most addictive song on you tube for me)

The Morning After

. Thursday, July 14, 2011

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The morning after, it changes. A whole new set of substances evolve or re-evolve, but definitely it changes. The motivation, the passion, the fear, the love, the subconscious, everything changes. Stability of ideas, if it were, is so unstable a term. Yesterday was a day with news rolling incessant without mid advertisement breaks, facebook pouring out human emotions, love and care; if not in true sense at least the word prayer was frequent on my wall, twitter was hot, with timeline crisp and tight, with retweets tweeted again and again, the politicians had words to say, perhaps a set of new agendas to roll out. Peoples had an opportunity to express their rage once again against pakistan. The word terrorism found new and creative paraphrase to sum up its existence. People were raged, furious and stern about the incapacitated government. Rahul Gandhi was forgotten for sometime until he blasted out something. Dig Vijay Singh jokes were out of twitter timeline. Concerns , sympathies and empathies replaced every other human/non – human emotions. Yesterday, the mass had questions about Mumbai, about their home, about their own existence. Some eyes has tears other had hope. Some voices were loud while some were mute. Some hearts were heavy while a few chunk was heartless.

And now the morning after, we are back on to our morning tea; perhaps a healthy one. The crimes just becomes a front page of news paper which seems stale. The regular day starts in. Facebook returns to normalcy, the spams are back. A few of them still scratched the word prayer, I could notice that. The government is back trying to justify itself how they took control of things. Dig Vijay Singh jokes are back on twitter only with a new taste attached. Pakistan is forgotten again, until it was cricket. Office gossips are back with discussions regarding the failed government and new agendas. Some of the questions still exists while majority have turned complacent.

But, some mornings after are silent. They have questions in their mind. Some have haunting thoughts about their own safe existence. They feel insecure. They have answers half answered. A few morning after it will be only be a part of history.  But this morning is sorrowful, sad and the silent screams are adorning the city.

The beckoning.

. Sunday, July 10, 2011

I knew these things will never work, and here it is; one more thread just went off. I knew it was weak. I knew we were trying equally to keep it up; but holding but at times .. probably the hold is just difficult to maintain. A lesson today. Time moves on so with the passage of time, I believe we all should grow up. Just grow up or else you just become a history, outdated and coarse in nature; Significant but just unimportant. Probably I am keen on cutting these wounded ties. The problem wit the wounded ties are that they are so holistic in nature. The entire comprehension seems like a model of power. At time it demonstrated the duty, at times right and at times just simple sadistic pleasure that probably everyone will beckon.

Good it is ending , at least some ends are satisfying in long run. Intermittently painful but may be destiny just happens. May be time just happens. May be the beckoning never gets overshadowed. It just shows up. Nice and Shine. Bright and hard

 

Irony of India

. Thursday, July 7, 2011

India

India has no interest in destabilizing any of her neighbors', or even in seeing any of them in difficulty," said the silver-haired gentleman in a thin-striped suit and with piercing eyes. It was a small talk, before a small gathering of Pakistani journalists here in Delhi, at the invitation of the Indian government. But the message was large.

It went something like this. India is nurturing its economy to sustain growth rates in the 9-10 per cent per annum range. At this rate, the size of India's economy doubles in less than a decade, not bad for an economy which clocked in a GDP of a little more than four trillion dollars in 2010, placing it as the world's fifth largest economy and still rising.

India has set for itself the target of becoming a middle-income country by the year 2025. That means it cannot afford to run volatile cycles of boom and bust, nor can it afford to fall behind in the race to innovate. Even as the silver-haired gentlemen was gently laying out the facts for us, the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) was preparing to present its third quarterly review of monetary policy, an announcement that lays out the state of the economy as seen by the central bank.

"Growth has moved close to its pre-crisis trajectory even in the face of an uncertain global recovery," noted the RBI. The "pre-crisis trajectory" the RBI is referring to is a growth rate of 8.5 per cent. That puts India in close competition with China, the world's fastest growing economy. Note the last words of the observation above: "even in the face of an uncertain global recovery." Meaning, as the economies of the US and the EU battle the prospect of a second recession, and a possible sovereign credit crisis, the economy of India is part of a growing set of economies in Asia, led by China.

In order to nurture and sustain these growth rates, India needs to overcome all instability in its neighborhood. The distinguished gentleman, as well as others we have met here thus far, have all been clear to point out that there is a great deal of concern with internal stability in India. "But at least in the case of the Naxals, for instance" quipped one senior journalist, "I'm glad the instability is borne of hunger and not religion. You see, you can feed a hungry human who has picked up arms against you, but what do you do with those who pick up arms in the name of religion?"

But religion has crept into the Indian political vocabulary and landscape. And curiously enough, it has entered through the back door of the secular, democratic nationalism that has been the hallmark of Indian politics ever since the Nehru years. Just a few days earlier, for instance, a train carrying BJP student activists to Srinagar had been surreptitiously turned around and taken back to the station from whence it had originated. And on January 24, senior leaders of the BJP were arrested trying to enter Srinagar with the intention of raising the Indian flag there on Republic Day.

This is irony at its best. Here is a country that values its economic rivalry with China over everything else. A country that treasures and takes supreme pride in its six-decade long experiment with democracy. A country that is deeply religious, yet sees its own salvation in making sure the state is aligned with no particular faith. And in this very country, a political party that seeks to hold the highest elected offices of state, runs in the name of the supremacy of one religion over others, and which seeks to plant the flag of the secular republic in Srinagar, is physically prevented from doing so by the government of the day.

If India's growth rates can persist in spite of the "uncertain global recovery," if India's democracy can thrive in spite of the BJP's attempts to transform it into an illiberal republic, then we in Pakistan need to understand how irrelevant we are becoming in the 21st century world. And perhaps we need to see the irony in that: irrelevant in spite of being the epicenter of a superpower's destiny.

Sources - #multiple

The Review that wasn’t

. Friday, July 1, 2011

transformers-3 T

There are few pairings in blockbuster cinema as perfect as director Michael Bay and the “Transformers” franchise. After all, Bay throws everything but the kitchen sink into his films, which are often overlong exercises in excess and spectacle. And a series of films about fighting robots is really nothing but spectacle anyway. Unfortunately, the second film in the series, “Revenge of the Fallen,” was a mess in every regard, even for a Michael Bay film. With this third (and presumably last) film in the franchise, it seems Bay has been reinvigorated by the general disdain for “Revenge of the Fallen” and is determined to make a “Transformers” film people won’t regret seeing. And “Transformers: Dark of the Moon” is that film. In fact, it’s the most epic film of the summer so far — especially in its final hour with an extended robot battle in downtown Chicago that single-handedly makes a case for 3-D as a viable format.

The film is ludicrously over-plotted for such a simple concept: there are robots from space. Some, such as Optimus Prime (voiced by Peter Cullen) are good. Others are bad. And then they fight while a boy named Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) watches, and that’s all that really matters. Everything else is just window dressing.

Just like “Revenge of the Fallen,” “Dark of the Moon” spends the majority of its runtime setting up for an epic robot battle, making the audience wait for what they came to see. Thankfully, “Dark of the Moon” manages to sidestep some of its predecessor’s problems.

Gone is most of the lame humor that Bay tends to work into his films, and finally, Sam’s parents, who were nothing short of a cancer on the last film, are entirely excised from the film after a handful of scenes that only hurt a little bit. Still, the film has entirely too many characters, and it adds even more, including John Malkovich as Sam’s new boss and Frances McDormand as a high-ranking security official. While McDormand manages to escape with her dignity mostly intact, Malkovich doesn’t fare so well. Neither does John Turturro (who returns from the first two films) or Alan Tudyk’s ridiculous turn as an ex-CIA operative with a silly accent.

The third film does surprisingly well with its heroes, however. Sam has never been more relatable as he struggles to find a job just out of college, and Shia LaBeouf brings his usual sharp comedic timing to the role. But LaBeouf truly shines in the film’s last hour. While robots clashing is the main appeal, this is the part of the film where his character steps up and finally becomes the hero he’s been threatening to become for the entire franchise, and LaBeouf sells every minute of it.

Female lead goes, getting rid of Megan Fox ends up being the fair decision Bay had made. Her replacement, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, doing equally good. Her performance isn’t much more than a winning smile and letting the camera ogle her body (in 3-D, no less), but she has a charm and likability. Bay uses this to his advantage, hanging the film’s emotional stakes on the fate of Whiteley’s character and making her essential to the narrative. Fox fan could miss her but Whiteley is good a replacement.

Robots, they get more development in this film. For the first time, we can almost tell them apart from each other, and Optimus Prime gets a few great moments, as does the new character Sentinel Prime, voiced by Leonard Nimoy. As Optimus, Cullen has always brought a steely gravitas to the franchise, and he finally gets some actual dialogue here, as opposed to the empty motivational speeches that his character was prone to deliver in previous films. Sad to loose Iron Hide.

But what really sets the film apart from its predecessors is, again, its last hour. Here, all pretense of plot falls away and Bay allows his robots to unleash untold amounts of destruction on Chicago. Here’s what makes “Dark of the Moon” worth seeing: an hour of pure spectacle and action, all presented in glorious 3-D. Bay utilizes the technology James Cameron developed in “Avatar” for his own purposes and creates a symphony of barely controlled chaos that single-handedly makes a case for the format. The 3-D is immersing and detailed, from sparks flying to shards of glass shattered from buildings destroyed by robots. With many films, 3-D has felt like an afterthought, a way to squeeze a few extra dollars out of audience members who are vulnerable to the gimmick. But “Dark of the Moon” is meant to be viewed in 3-D, something reflected in Bay’s formerly frantic directorial style, which is now slowed down to give audiences a nice, long, three-dimensional look at the chaos Bay takes great joy in unleashing.

“Transformers: Dark of the Moon” is unprecedented. Going in, it’s expected that the film would have great, big action, and not much else to offer. While it certainly won’t be praised for its narrative ambition, it’s a completely watchable film, bolstered by a 3-D presentation that’s easily the best use of the format to date. It boasts a solid hour of wall-to-wall destruction and mayhem that stands among the most memorable action scenes in years.

Even more surprising, Bay almost manages to redeem himself for the first two films, making this final installment feel like the natural conclusion of a much better franchise. “Transformers: Dark of the Moon” is spectacle from top to bottom, and there is not a better bang for your buck in multiplexes today. It’s a summer film through and through, so audiences in the mood to watch an entire city reduced to rubble by a bunch of angry robots should make it their priority to see “Transformers: Dark of the Moon” as soon as possible. Yes, in 3-D.

Source: http://www.dailytexanonline.com

 

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